


The Old Man and the Sea

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Backstory, Benny's Long Overdue Backstory, F/M, Heavy Angst, Lost Love, Sailor Benny, Tulpas, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning, fisherman Benny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: She reaches out with her arm once she's close enough, grazing his face with her fingertips, smiling as she moves from his temple to the bottom of his chin. Her touch is cold and the fog rolling in threatens to separate them again, but Benny leans into her, closing his eyes as she too leans in, kissing him.She pulls back first. Her head falls, drooping like a wilting flower. She looks at him through her long blonde hair. "You left me."Benny's chest swells with the rising current. "No. No, I took this job to help us. I'm doin’ this for you.""So am I."
Relationships: Benny Lafitte/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3
Collections: The Shatterdome's Trick-or-Treat Challenge





	The Old Man and the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Two more prompts fulfilled for me and ralsbecket's challenge: A1. Ghost and A5. Two-faced inner turmoil
> 
> (Because leave it to Supernatural to under-develop a monster of the week, so I'm considering tulpas ghosts for the purpose of fulfilling a prompt.)
> 
> Requested by Benny Lafitte himself, Ty Olsson. This one is for you. <3

_“I was late for this, late for that_

_Late for the love of my life_

_And when I die alone, when I die alone, when I die I'll be on time…”_

🌊

**1909**

_Dearest Nell,_

_Deepest apologies for the break in communication. The sea wasn't so kind to me on Day 65. The fog was so dense we couldn't make out our own boots. We had to pull back our dories and make up for the lost cod early this morning. Sometimes I miss Louisiana fog._

_Hope you're doing well. I'll keep an eye out for your reply. I'm sure some of these get washed up to shore and snatched by someone else. It's a good thing I'm not writing pornographic material._

_I miss you._

_Your cute and cuddly—_

"Benny, I need help with the sails—fog’s rollin' in again!"

Hastily, Benny rips the letter from his journal. He rolls it up, slides it into the empty Coke bottle, slams the cork back in, and tosses it into the Atlantic before rushing to his shipmate.

He prays the saltwater doesn't slip through the opening and bitter his words.

🌊

"Hey, Benny."

At first glance, you wouldn't mistake the guy for a fisherman, let alone a Captain. He's shorter than Benny with slick brown hair and suit with a gray fleece to compliment. The only thing about him fit for the sea is his blue eyes.

"Yeah, Boss?"

Boss Man hesitates, tilting his head back to examine Benny like a fresh catch before nodding slowly. "Keep up the good work. I know working overnight to plow fish isn't optimal, but you've fared well." That’s another thing: His voice isn’t loud or dominating. Every word spoken is soft and deliberate.

"It's nothin’, Sir,” Benny insists, tipping the brim of his golf cap, “any time."

"That thing you call nothing I call dedication. Would you consider yourself dedicated, Benny? Loyal?"

"Um... I mean, I suppose. Those words were briefly mentioned in my wife's vows, anyway."

Boss Man laughs, "Well she can add modest to that list. Your wife, is that who you write to?"

Benny’s stomach leaps to his throat.

“Sometimes the bottles get stuck in the net,” Boss Man continues. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to bring up unpleasant memories.”

"Oh no,” Benny says, forcing himself from his reveries, _“I'm_ sorry, Sir. It won't—”

"It troubles you," he states, taking a step closer. "It must be tough going months on end without a response."

Benny averts his gaze. The way he’s staring makes him uneasy, like he’s sizing him up. Benny may as well be a basking shark that escaped to shore and Boss Man the current chasing after him, calculating how tall he needs to expand to reel him back in. "I better be gettin’ to bed."

"Of course," Boss Man says, gaze softening to accommodate a smile. "Goodnight, Benny. Sweet dreams."

🌊

_The figure at the other end of the boat moves with careful precision towards him, as if she'll fall through the floorboards._

_She reaches out with her arm once she's close enough, grazing his face with her fingertips, smiling as she moves from his temple to the bottom of his chin. Her touch is cold and the fog rolling in threatens to separate them again, but Benny leans into her, closing his eyes as she too leans in, kissing him._

_She pulls back first. Her head falls, drooping like a wilting flower. She looks at him through her long blonde hair. "You left me."_

_Benny's chest swells with the rising current. "No. No, I took this job to help us. I'm doin’ this for you."_

_"So am I."_

🌊

When Benny startles awake, it's not without gasping for air. It's as if an anchor fell onto him, planting him firmly on the ocean floor.

Nell was his anchor. She was the one forcing his head underwater when she lunged for him. She's the reason for his accelerated heart rate and the sweat pooling around his neck.

When he lifts his hand to swipe some away, it turns up something much thicker.

He swipes the knife and flashlight from underneath his pillow. He turns on the light and holds the dagger out in front of him and looks through the face of it. He angles it to get a better view and recoils when he sees it.

He leaps out of bed, prompting a new noise from his bunkmate. Benny flashes his light on him. He stirs in his sleep, switching to sleep on his side. The lapel of his blue collar shirt rides down a little with the movement, revealing a similar bite mark marring his neck, just older and scarred over.

Benny doesn't even realize he drops his light until he runs into someone in the dark. He stumbles back, brushing against it with his boot.

“What’s the matter, Benny? You look a little pale.” Boss Man asks, the corner of his lip twitching into a depraved smile. “How’s the wife?”

Heart racing, Benny scrambles for the knife on his bed. “What did you do to her?” he growls, pressing the side of it to Boss Man’s neck.

“Nothing you haven’t already done,” he says. He lifts a finger to wipe the blood spilling from his neck. Benny’s hold on his knife falters. He watches on in awe with a newfound pang in his stomach sending a shiver throughout his entire body as Boss Man presses the flat of his tongue against his finger. He wraps his mouth around it, finishing it off with a feather-light kiss. “Mmm. She’s just a tulpa, Benny. You’re the writer; you created her with your little erotica letters. Just consider me… the publisher, if you will.”

Heart pounding and hunger growing, Benny manages to grit out: "W-who are you?"

Boss Man smiles, revealing an expanse of pointed teeth. "They call me The Old Man. Welcome to Hell."

🌊

_“The only gifts from my Lord_

_Were a birth and a divorce_

_But I've read this script and the costume fits, so I'll play my part…”_

**Author's Note:**

> Song: "Cleopatra" by The Lumineers


End file.
